


The Great Escape: Zerard Spaceport: Depot

by moody_trans_detective



Series: Rogueass Galaxy [21]
Category: Rogue Galaxy
Genre: BDSM, Bestiality, Caning, F/M, Femdom, Humiliation, Orgasm Denial, Why Did I Write This?, or...Beast-iality?, tragic backstory, you're a beast fucker Zegram
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27837166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moody_trans_detective/pseuds/moody_trans_detective
Summary: Zegram thinks back to his first encounter with Jane.
Relationships: Zegram Ghart/Jane (Rogue Galaxy)
Series: Rogueass Galaxy [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956043
Kudos: 2





	The Great Escape: Zerard Spaceport: Depot

Zegram hadn’t been back to Zerard in years. He’d been avoiding it ever since that terrible day that had ended his one chance at happiness, and he stayed in the Dorgenark as the others eagerly put together a party to do a bit of shopping and renew their Galactic Travel Visa. He sulked while Simon babbled about Zerard being his home planet. This place was where Zegram had been born and raised, too, but it didn’t feel like home so much as the source of unending misery. So many people, so many advancements, and still he was so alone, so broken.

He waited for the kid to disembark with a too-enthusiastic Simon and an out-of-her-element Lilika, then went up to the deck to peer out at the spaceport and the buildings rising up beyond. Zegram hated the fact Zerard was so visually appealing, its climate perfect, the bitter nostalgia he felt on seeing the rising towers and hover shuttles. He was glad he didn’t have family left to feel guilty about not visiting.

The smell of hot street food wafted up from the spaceport depot, vendors selling to hungry travelers and nearby workers. His stomach rumbled despite himself. He hadn’t had deep-fried pepper cheese on a stick in years, or any of the other fares he’d grown up with here. But he couldn’t bear to go down, not yet, so he had a couple large swigs from his grog flask and ignored it.

It was here, in this very spaceport, where he’d lost her. It had made the news bulletins, so shocking an event it was. And Zegram had witnessed it, had alone understood what was going on. He’d been too cowardly to end himself after it. And so here he was.

“Jane, Jane,” he mumbled to himself, gripping the railing of the Dorgenark hard with his hands, so hard he imagined breaking apart the wood, studding his palms with splinters, but the railing was reinforced and remained solid in his grasp. “I’m sorry.”

He turned away. He couldn’t look at this beautiful place any longer. He’d gotten Jane killed here.

Zegram slunk off back to his cabin. Jaster was on the planet and not likely to return soon, and the other bunks were empty. Zegram swung himself up into his top bunk, glared at the ceiling. Thought about Jane. She’d gotten him, truly gotten him, like no one ever had. And she’d been the only woman he’d ever felt anything for. They were going to run away together, adventure. She was going to write a beast identification book, and he was going to offer his expertise. They’d had their whole lives ahead of them.

He'd met her through Mio’s Matches, a dating program he’d signed up for in desperation after the love potion Froggy had given him failed to provoke any interest in women. Zegram wouldn’t normally have done anything like this, but he was running out of options, and it wasn’t like he had to tell anyone he’d signed up. He and Jane’d both scored high on interest for beasts, mainly, and love of travel, and high kink scores on the sex portion. They’d met for drinks; she could match him grog for grog. That’d piqued Zegram’s interest.

“What kinds of beasts interest someone like you?” she’d asked.

“The less human, the better.” Zegram had flicked the hair out of his eyepatch, leaned closer. “Whaddya think of that?”

Jane had downed the rest of her grog, ahead of him now. Black lace hugged her cleavage, which she’d been careful to point Zegram’s way. He’d barely looked—but he’d seen other men ogling her, a few women, too, and that’d made him feel important. Finally he was gettin’ closer to normal, and he’d liked the way it’d felt.

“I think you ought to invite me back and continue discussing beasts in private.” She’d arched an eyebrow at him. “The more monstrous, the better, in my opinion. Ever run into a cactulus?”

She’d ran a finger along the edge of the black lace at her breast. Zegram had backed the fuck off. No way he could’ve taken her back to his place and revealed his shameful brand of impotence. He’d gulped his grog.

“Innit a bit soon fer all that? We just met a couple hours back.”

“I don’t need to move slow. I’m like a stinger assassin—ever seen one of those?”

“Heard of ‘em.” Zegram had dreamed of ‘em, too, like massive insectors. He’d wondered what it would feel like to rub up against the exoskeleton of one of those beasts…

“I have pictures. Come back home with me.”

“An’ you’ll show me your pictures,” he’d said.

Jane had smiled. He’d gone home with her. Had figured he could always pretend he hadn’t understood the inuendo. She’d lived in a nearby apartment high up, the fiftieth floor. Her place’d been all done up in metal sculptures and potted plants and images of beasts she’d tracked down and studied. Zegram had been in awe. He could get used to being around someone like her, but he’d figured his stubborn dick’d ruin it for him, like it always had whenever he tried a relationship. No one’d ever turned him on.

“Something to drink?” she’d offered. “Pirate’s Grog?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Zegram had wandered to the window, looked out over Zerard at night, aglow like a million jewels twinkling. When he’d turned back, Jane had a couple more Pirate’s Grogs in hand and had stripped off her purple clothes, leaving only the black lace. “Huh…”

“Let’s sit.”

He’d followed her to the leather couch, begging his cock to feel something, anything, for a woman in lingerie placing her hand on his thigh. She’d taken a swig of grog.

“What do you want to see first?” she’d asked, the question so loaded Zegram had been forced to set his barely-touched grog on the coffee table.

He hadn’t been able to do this, go so far and let another woman down. He’d stood.

“Sorry, Jane.” He’d hated himself even as he’d spoken. “I…can’t.”

“Didn’t take you for the kind of man to turn down an offer.” Jane had paused when Zegram had turned away. “Oh, you mean you _can’t_.”

He’d shrugged.

“I don’t expect you to understand…”

Jane had stood, grabbed his throat under his jaw, turned his face to her.

“Zegram Ghart,” she’d said. “You will for me.”

“You don’t get it. I can’t. It’s not about whether I will or won’t.”

Zegram had started to dislike her then. He’d glared at her, silently daring her to tell him again he’d perform for her. After a moment he’d tried to pull away, and when she hadn’t let him go, he’d pushed her. Her hand had come back around and smacked him so fast he’d been shocked. It’d been a low blow, too, to the eyepatch side of his face.

“When I tell you you will for me, I’m not lying.”

Zegram had practically snarled at her.

“You think this is gonna turn me on? Make me wanna sleep with you?”

Jane had smirked.

“I can see right through you. You’re a beast fucker, Zegram. Well, I’m not just a researcher and photographer. I tame people like you. Break you down and punish you.” She’d stepped up to him and grabbed his chin, leaned in so their lips had been nearly touching, the grog on their breaths hanging heavy in the air between them. “I knew what you were the moment we matched. And believe me, you pitiful excuse for a man, you _will_ come for me.”

“You think I’m just gonna let you talk to me like this?”

“Yes,” she’d said, and had dug her fingernails in so hard when she’d shoved him away she’d drawn blood.

Zegram had snarled in earnest then, not sure what to do, pissed as hell and intrigued and confused.

“Strip for me,” Jane had said. “Do it and I’ll show you my pictures of a _very_ friendly stinger assassin I met in the ruins on Juraika. Don’t do it and I’ll cane you.”

“The fuck?” Zegram hadn’t been able to believe this was happening. He’d had the ability to defend himself, had been armed after all, but the thought of hacking her in half hadn’t appealed to him. He’d eyed the door. He’d heard something whoosh through the air, turned to see Jane with a thick cut of cane in her hand.

“If you’re leaving, go. Do it now or don’t do it at all.”

Zegram had hesitated, had dabbed at the scrapes on his chin. After a moment he’d shrugged.

“What the hell.” He’d undressed, dropped his clothes to the floor. “If you can get me to come, you’d be the first.”

Jane’s smirk had grown, and she’d taken in his naked body as though weighing it.

“Tiger stripe tattoos.” She’d shaken her head. “You think you’re the beast. You have it all wrong. Lean over the couch arm.”

“You promised pictures.”

The cane had snapped through the air and struck his calf in an instant, and Zegram had sworn and went down. He’d moved to do as she’d instructed, and Jane had grabbed his hair and shoved his face down, knocked his legs apart so she’d had a clear view of his ass, his dangling balls. She’d been humiliating him in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. Zegram hadn’t gotten the feeling his limp cock was a problem for her.

“That was before I saw the cocky tattoos. As though you’re the beast and not completely at their mercy. They have what you want. They master you, not the other way around. And I’m going to teach you that with a blow for each tattoo.”

“Look, lady,” Zegram had said, not sure he was into this, but she’d brought the cane down on his ass and he yelped, again and again, one strike for each stripe he’d had inked into his chest. When she’d been done she’d stepped back.

“Lady. I like that. You’ll call me that here, in my rooms. It’s Jane on the street.” She’d paused, swished the cane through the air so Zegram had winced as he’d heard it, expecting the sting at any moment and not receiving it. “Now, where were we? Oh yes, the horny stinger assassin.”

Zegram had panted, heart beating hard. His dick had still been disinterested, but he’d been wound up.

“Go kneel in the middle of the floor.”

Jane had walked away, to some back room somewhere, leaving Zegram with a stinging ass and a clear line to the door. He hadn’t known why he’d decided to stay. He’d been glad later he had. When she’d returned, pictures in hand, he’d been kneeling on the rug as she’d said.

“Good. Now, I’ll show you my pictures and tell you a little bit about this stinger assassin.”

Jane had remained standing, but had dropped a picture to the floor and nudged it in front of Zegram with the cane. He’d looked up at her.

“Eyes down, you disgusting beast fucker. Don’t you dare look at me with those same eyes you use to ogle Rune-addled monsters.”

That had been the moment Zegram had felt the first tingle of thrill. It’d been something, to be openly told he was filth for his desires while simultaneously being tempted. The image of the stinger assassin before him had been lovely, the carapace curved and shiny, the color vivid, the horns spectacular and large.

“I ran into this beast a few months back. Note the green and copper sheen to his exoskeleton and horns. Yes, Zegram, this particular beast is a he, and we will get to that later. He trundled out of nowhere, straight to me. I swear, sometimes I think they tell each other who I am and they all come running. Want to be famous across the galaxy.”

Zegram hadn’t been able to help himself. The way Jane had been talking about the stinger assassin was turning him on. He’d felt his cock respond, and then, for the first time, he’d felt shame that he was getting an erection in front of a woman. He’d wanted this for so long, and now…

“Good, you’re paying attention.” Jane had dropped another picture to the floor, this one closer still. “He allowed me to get close, stroke his side. Gorgeous beast. Decent height, he came up to my shoulders easily. He took a sanchez fruit from my hand, gentle as can be.”

“What did he sound like? Smell like?” Zegram had asked, his cock even harder.

Jane had tapped his erection with her cane and Zegram’s pulse had sped with something like fear.

“I do the talking. You follow my orders. Understand?”

“Yes, lady,” Zegram had muttered.

“I can’t believe I’m entertaining the likes of you. You don’t deserve my story. Look at you, unable to get it up for a woman in lace but the moment the mere image of a beast appears you’re hard as a rock. As a dark gigant. Are you the sort to fuck Rune-addled stone?”

“Uh, not…normally…”

“Well you will be, after me. My research has only just begun, and part of that is investigating whether beasts fuck, and how. I may consider hiring you, if your performance is up to my standard.”

Zegram had swallowed, hard. With Jane telling him he’d like it, he’d actually thought he could fuck a rock.

“Keep looking at the picture. Gods, you disgust me. You’re really turned on by this giant twisted insect beast. What does it for you? The curve of his exoskeleton? The length of his horns?”

“Everything,” Zegram had muttered.

“Of course.” Jane had dropped another picture to the floor, pushed it forward. “Touch yourself.”

Zegram had looked up at her.

“Filthy eyes on the stinger assassin, you sick piece of shit.”

Zegram’s heart had fluttered again and he’d obeyed. He’d given himself slow, easy strokes, eye glued to the curve of the stinger assassin’s shell.

“He was hanging around me even after I’d run out of sanchez fruit. First I thought he didn’t realize I was out, then he started rubbing up on the old stone around us. Eventually I parsed it was a mating display.”

“Damn,” Zegram had muttered.

“Shut up and listen while I’m being generous enough to the likes of you to tell you this.”

The next image Jane had shared had been of the stinger assassin rubbing his body up against moss-covered rock. Zegram’d imagined what it’d be like to be there for it, the sound of the hard exoskeleton scraping up against age-old stone, the scent of such a beast as it revved itself up, turned itself on.

“You’d better not get off while I’m talking,” Jane had said, then when Zegram had sworn and stopped stroking himself, “Don’t you dare stop. I want you to know your humiliation. Keep it up, don’t come. Simple instructions.”

Zegram had tried to slow his strokes, but that hadn’t done much for slowing down the build. He’d gritted his teeth, tried to focus as Jane had kept talking.

“The air grew deeply musky. The scent of a horny beast is overpowering. I wanted to stay and watch, but it became apparent the stinger assassin was interested in me.”

She’d placed another picture on the floor, pushed it forward. This had been the most exciting image yet: the stinger assassin, underbelly turned a perfect angle to see the impressive prick poking out. It was a deeper green color, and looked leathery. The head was splayed slightly, the length was impressive.

“As you can see, he was very interested in me. But I wasn’t about to have beast dick inside me. How utterly nauseating. A beast like that anywhere near me, in me? The girth on that thing alone would be a challenge, and ten inches is a bit much. Plus at that point I had no knowledge of the load a stinger assassin could blow. There are some beasts that can shoot with traumatizing force, or keep dumping seed in you at such high volumes—don’t you fucking come, you filth.”

Zegram had been nearly there, but Jane had tapped his balls with her cane and he’d managed to back off some. He’d breathed out raggedly. He’d wanted so bad to come.

“I wish I could tell you what it felt like, but I got the hell out of there. So. Would you let a beast like this top you? If I took you to the ruins on Juraika, had you strip for me, parade you in front of this stinger assassin like the piece of trash you are, would you show me how a man lets a beast rape him senseless?”

Zegram hadn’t been able to stop it then. The orgasm had forced its way out of him and he’d sprayed his load over the picture of the stinger assassin’s beastdick. He’d growled, then swore as his orgasm had been cut short by Jane striking his shoulder.

“What the hell did I say?” She’d sounded pissed. It’d thrilled Zegram. “You scum—I generously tell you a story and you dump come over my photographs? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Sorry,” Zegram had muttered.

“Clean it up.”

“Huh?” Zegram had looked up at her.

“Clean it up, filth.”

She’d leaned down, grabbed his hair viciously, and shoved his face toward the photograph.

“Lick. Lap it up.”

Zegram had opened his mouth to speak, but she’d struck his ass with her cane and he’d yelped instead.

“Clean it up.”

He’d obeyed. He’d never tasted his own come before, never been humiliated like this. Zegram hadn’t particularly liked the taste, or the bitterness of the ink from the picture, but he’d licked until it was all gone and Jane had released him. She’d let him back off after that, eye her with uncertainty. She’d smirked.

“So I’m the first.” She’d put her hand on her hip. “It wasn’t even that hard. You’re a pervert, Zegram.”

And she’d been fond of him for it. Zegram squeezed his eye closed as he remembered the good times, pressed a fist to his forehead alone in his bunk on the Dorgenark. Jane had been the only woman he’d ever loved. And being back on Zerard brought it all crashing back—the highest of highs with her. And the lowest of lows. How he'd been responsible for her death.

He couldn’t bear to lie here and think about her, even the good memories. She hadn’t punished him enough before she’d gone. He could have spent his entire life with her. And now here he was, on a pirate ship of pathetically positive bastards.

He left the bunk. There was a chance. It was all he had left. A chance to have Jane again. He wasn’t sure he even believed it, but he couldn’t afford to pass it up. Zegram _needed_ her. And for the possibility he needed to get his hands dirty. Well, nothing he wasn’t accustomed to. He just needed to get his ass off the Dorgenark and face Zerard again. Simple.


End file.
